Why am I starting to become facinated with Giblets? I hate his helmet hair and yet, I can't look away. I feel like I'm part of that Stanford prison experiment. He is my jailer and I? I am his prisoner, baby.*
Patrice. I can't...I just...I...I...no.
Magni. Your flight to Reykjavik is now boarding.
Ryan. He plays piano, he plays guitar, he writes 80's-esque rock songs (swoon!). He took that original song and he cuh-rushed it. Look out Dilana, it's ON!
Storm. I'm tired of the wide-legged squat, ensuing karate moves, and psycho eyes. But damn, I love you for making Dave your "bitch!"
Dilana. Not loving the baby sparrows attached to your eyelids, but the hair was rockin'. Song, not so much.
Toby. It's official. You have turned into Zayda.
Lukazzzzzzzzzzz. I thought the song was boring, but dig your whole black|white aesthetic. Can the band say something other than "Good job?" Oh wait. That's right. They can't.
*I know, I'm slapping myself right now. I need to keep reminding myself that he's "the guy who replaced the guy who replaced Slash in Guns N' Roses."